


Soul Forge

by Lomelindi (PirateColey)



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brotherhood, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateColey/pseuds/Lomelindi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of brotherhood which follows Fíli and Kíli at key moments throughout their lives (from birth to death). There is a fair amount of angst, but it's tempered with fluff. Guest appearances by Dís and Thorin. (Cannon-compliant.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The World Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli doesn't remember a time without his brother, Kíli. (Baby-dwarves being cute.)

Chapter One: The World Ahead 

“The world was young, the mountains green,” -Tolkien, Song of Durin  
\-------------

 

Fíli never remembers a time before his brother. Their mother, Dís , claims he spent five uneventful years as an only child, but Fíli's first memories start with the fat bundle of baby brother being placed into his tiny arms. Perhaps there had been thoughts and feelings before that point, but Fíli rather assumes it was the event of his brother's birth which forged his soul into being.

“Kíli. My brother.” He likes the way his brother's name feels on his tongue- so similar to his own, and yet still so very different. “My Kíli.” Whose dark hair contrasts with his own golden locks when he leans over the crib and allows the baby to grip both of their manes in his tiny fist.

It is amazing how quickly Kíli takes to getting in trouble. Even as an infant he somehow manages to wedge his leg into the spokes of the cradle, or to roll over with no idea how to right himself again. Oftentimes, while their mother is cooking dinner, Fíli plays with his brother- holding Kíli on his lap while the younger suckles happily on the collar of his coat. On one such occasion, Kíli pulls back with a snap, a shiny brass button situated between his lips. 

“Kíli! No!” Fíli grabs the button before his brother can choke on it, though his heart feels as though it might beat out of his chest. Proud of himself, he turns to tell their mother, only to be met with an angry scream. Fat crocodile tears fall from Kíli's eyes as he tries to grab the button back from his brother and Fíli can only hold him close and comfort him until the tears stop. It is in those first months of his brother's life that Fíli learns what love is and vows to always protect and care for his brother.

~*~

The brothers grow, as boys tend to do, and before long Kíli is able to toddle after his brother on homespun adventures. Extra sweets are pilfered from cupboard tops, and tablecloths become capes and tents and all manners of wondrous things. They drive their mother to madness with their incessant questions and boundless energy, and though she treasures them more than gold, she occasionally leaves them in the care of her brother, Thorin, so that she can have a moments peace.

Thorin has no children of his own and very little idea of what to do with his sister-sons. He sits on the stoop with his pipe, watching the boys play pretend.

“Faster, Fee, faster!” Laughter fills the air as Fíli races around the yard, his tiny brother clinging wildly to his back.

“Hurry, Fee! We gotta catch the orcs! That way!” Fíli makes a sharp turn in the direction his brother points, only to trip over his own feet and send them both tumbling to the ground. Both boys roll across the grass in fits of giggles, coming to stop against the side of the house. Thorin raises a brow slightly at their choice of play, but says nothing.

“Now the orcs are gonna get away.” Kíli pouts.

“Maybe... Or maybe they are in disguise!” Fíli looks around thoughtfully, then whispers: “Maybe Uncle Thorin is an orc!”

Kíli's eyes light up conspiratorially and he nods in excitement. They sneak quietly towards their uncle, who pretends not to hear the older boy shushing the younger one's giggles. Just as they reach Thorin, he turns suddenly and leaps at his nephews, who shriek and race off across the yard. Kíli's legs are shortest, and he is quickly caught and tickled mercilessly.

“Fee! Help! Uncle Thorin-orc has got me!”

At the sound of his brother's shrieks, Fíli turns and tackles his uncle, who tosses both boys over his shoulders and stands up.

“Now, where have Fíli and Kíli gotten to? I cannot find my sister-sons anywhere...” Thorin turns left, then right, pretending to look for the boys, who cling wildly to his back.

“Mahal help me, it appears they are lost. Whatever will I tell their mother?” Kíli cannot contain his excitement any long and knocks his small fist against his uncle's back.

“Here we are, Uncle Thorin! Here on your back!”

“And so you are!” Thorin smiles, depositing his sister-sons on the ground as the boys grin happily up at him.

This goes on for some time, the carefree play of youth, until both boys have twigs in their hair and mud on their knees. Dís returns home and calls them in for supper and baths and finally they are tucked side-by-side in bed as their uncle tells them stories of Erebor. Fíli loves these stories of mountains old and stays awake until the last word is spoken. Kíli sucks quietly at his thumb and falls asleep quickly, his fingers tucked into his brother's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews feed the muse!


	2. Braids and Brotherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli is finally old enough to get his first braids. This causes trouble with his little brother.

Chapter Two: Braids and Brotherhood 

“In Elder Days before the fall” -Tolkien, Song of Durin  
\-------------------------------

 

When Fíli wakes up on the morning on his twentieth birthing day his whole body seems to be buzzing with excitement. He lays in bed and listens to the sounds of his mother bustling in the kitchen, her voice soft as she hums along with her baking. Kíli is a warm weight next to him, tucked so deep into the blankets that only the top of his dark head shows. Climbing out from the bed, Fíli pulls on his clothes and joins his mother in the kitchen.

“My son!” Dís' smile is warm as she hugs him, planting a loud kiss on his cheek. “You are growing strong and I am proud of you. Your hair is lengthening and I believe it is time for your first braids.”

Fíli cannot help the way his eyes widen in excitement. “Braids! Really, mother?” She nods. “Can you show me how? Please?”

Dís hides a smile at her son's exuberance. Stroking her beard, she pretends to consider his request, “I really do need to get the bread made, otherwise it won't have risen for when your uncle comes to supper.” 

She waits just long enough for Fíli's smile to falter before she concedes, “Alright, my jewel- I will show you one braid. Then you best be out of my hair else I put you to work in the kitchen.”

Fíli bounds from the room, grabbing the looking glass and comb from the mantle and returning to the kitchen. He settles on a stool near the table, and positions the glass so that he can see his mother behind him. Dís carefully combs her son's hair until it shines like polished gold, catching the sight of his face in the mirror she marvels over the fact that he's not a little boy any more.

“The first braid every dwarf learns is a three-strand braid. First, you separate the hair into three equal sections...” Slowly and deliberately Dís winds a slender braid down the side of her son's hair, explaining each step in the same manner her mother explained it to her. Fíli watches in the mirror, his brow furrowed in concentration. When the braid is finished she clasps it with a small silver bead.

“Your first braid. May it be one of many.” Dís smiles, “Now get out of my kitchen so I can get some work done!” Fíli throws his mother a lopsided grin, grabbing the looking glass and taking it out to the yard.

...

Fíli spends the next hour trying to replicate his mother's braid down the other side of his head. Tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he works, he doesn't notice Kíli watching him from the doorway. Finally finishing his work, Fíli clasps a matching bead to the braid and smiles proudly to himself.

“It is all lumpy, brother.” Kíli stands barefoot behind him, hair rumpled from sleep.

“What?!” Fíli spins to look at his brother, face going red with embarrassment and anger. 

“I said it's all lumpy. And uneven.” The youngster blinks slowly, not realizing he's incurred his brother's wrath until it's too late and Fíli's push sends him sprawling.

“It's not lumpy! Take it back!” Fíli screams, pushing Kíli again as the smaller dwarf tries to get up. “Take it back!”

“No. It's lumpy. Lumpy, lumpy, LUMPY!” Kíli taunts in a way only younger siblings can. Sticking his tongue out he says once more, “Lumpy!”

“I **hate** you! You are just a stupid baby! You know nothing!” Fíli hides his hurt with anger, directing it at his brother. “You ruined by birthing day! I wish you were never born!”

Kíli's face falls, and in an instant Fíli regrets his words. Before he can take them back the younger dwarf turns on his heels and races off into the woods.

“Kíli! I am sorry!” he yells, but it's too late and his brother is gone.

...

Fíli sits on the steps for hours and waits for his brother to return. As early afternoon comes his residual anger fades and is replaced with slowly with fear. Worried that something might have befallen his brother, he puts on his cloak and heads into the forest.

“Kíli! Kíli!” His calls goes unanswered, and for several agonizing moments he imagines his baby brother has been torn to pieces by wolfs, or had his skull crushed falling into a ravine. “ **Kíli!!!** ”

“Fee?” The voice is so soft he might have imagined it.

“Kíli? Please, brother! Where are you?” He spins around, eyes searching the brushes and shadows for a sign.

“Above you. Fee, I'm stuck!” Looking up, Fíli sees his brother perched ten feet up a tree, clinging madly to the trunk with a look of terror.

“Oh, Kíli. I did not mean to yell at you.” Fíli removes his cloak and holds his arms out to his brother. “Please come down.”

“I can't. I'm stuck!” Kíli's voice carries a hysterical edge. “Help me, Fee! Please!”

There are very few things in the world that would make Fíli climb a tree. His brother is one of them. Taking a deep breath, he beings to slowly scale the tree, trying not to look down. He makes it most of the way to his brother before the branches start to give under his weight. Two feet above him, Kíli is whimpering softly.

“Kíli, I am too heavy to climb any higher- the branches will give way. You have to climb down to me.” Fíli casts a pleading look upwards and is met with a resounding sob. He notices his brother is shaking with fatigue and panic, and worries he might fall.

“Brother, we have to get you out of the tree. Do you trust me?” Kíli looks down, meeting his eyes and nods once. “Good. I cannot reach you from here, you're going to have to jump.”

Kíli issues a keening sob, clutching the tree truck so tightly that the branches shake. A slight wind rocks the tree even more, pulling the brothers farther apart. Fíli takes a deep breath and steadies himself in the crook of a branch. Reaching up with both arms he locks eyes with his brother. 

“Kíli! Grab my hand! Kíli!” 

Kíli jumps and for one agonizing moment he fears his plan might not have worked. Then a solid body hits his, pushing them both backwards into the crook of branches. Clutching his brother tightly Fíli wipes the moisture from his eyes.

“We need to get out of this tree... can you climb onto my back?”

Kíli nods and they slowly make their way out of the tree. When the reach the bottom Fíli wraps his brother in his cloak and pulls him close.

“I am so sorry, brother. I did not mean the things I said.”

“You said you wished I was never born!” Kíli sniffles, and for the first time Fíli notices the red eyes and puffy face.

“I was angry. And wrong. You are my brother and we are forged together. Nothing will ever break us apart- I swear it!”

“I love you, Fee. I am sorry I made fun of your braids. They are the best braids in the whole wide world!” Kíli manages a small smile at his brother.

“I love you, too. And they'll only be the best braids until you have some of your own.” This earns him a frown and a shake of the head.

“I will never have braids, Fee. Not after making fun of yours. I do not deserve them.”

Fíli shrugs, “You have five years to decide. In the meantime, we should be getting home. Uncle Thorin will be over for supper.”

He turns to head for home, but stops when Kíli doesn't follow. His brother's eyes are trained on his bare feet, which are scraped and obviously sore. Fighting the guilt in his heart, Fíli swings the younger dwarf onto his back and carries him home.

They arrive back at the house just in time to get cleaned up for supper. If their mother and uncle notice the dirt and tear tracks they choose to remain silent, instead offering the boys a feast of a meal and extra sweets. There are stories and gifts and songs, and by the end of the night both boys are yawning contentedly. 

Dís pulls her sons to her side. “You boys are growing up so fast. While you were out playing today, your Uncle Thorin brought in another bed. I know it will make your room a bit crowded, but you are getting too big to be made to share.” She takes no heed in their silence and sends them up to their room, where they ready for bed.

...

Sitting on a separate bed, on the opposite side of the room, Fíli watches his brother. Kíli has the blankets pulled up to his chin and his eyes squeezed shut- obviously feigning sleep. Fíli pretends not to notice the thumb tucked into his brother's mouth, or the slightly hitched breath that echos his own.

“Kíli?” he whispers, waiting for his brother's eyes to open before he continues. “I cannot sleep. Can you?” Fíli doesn't wait for an answer, choosing instead to push his own bed over until both mattresses are lined up.

“There. Mother was right about us needing two beds- we are too big to share. But she put them wrong spot. This is **much** better.” The joy and relief in Kíli's eyes is enough to calm his own heart. Fíli begins to whisper softly to his brother, promising to never stay angry, to never leave him, to always protect him. 

“Love you, brother. Always.”

Kíli reaches over and tugs lightly on the uneven braid in his brother's hair, wrapping it around his fingers. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews feed the muse!


	3. The Heirs of Naught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin invites the boys on a camping trip. Kíli is excited and Fíli is suspicious. What will the brothers learn?

Chapter Three: The Heirs of Naught 

“A king he was on carven throne” -Tolkien, Song of Durin

\---------------------- 

 

Fíli and Kíli don't remember their father. The few times they have thought to question their mother about him, her sadness has stilled their tongues. It's not unusual to be lacking a parent, and there are much more exciting things in the world for two adolescent dwarves, so it seldom crosses their minds. Dís is a wonderful mother and all the parent either boy really needs, and their Uncle Thorin is an often present force for the few awkward manhood questions they cannot answer for themselves. 

It's not long after Fíli's fortieth birthing day that Thorin invites the boys on an overnight trip. The elder dwarf is skeptical about the invitation, but his brother is bouncing with excitement.

“It will be fun, Fee!” Kíli still uses the childhood nickname for his brother. “Our first real adventure with Uncle Thorin! He hasn't been around much as of late...”

“I know he hasn't, Kíli, and that concerns me. His visits have grown farther and farther between, and his moods have grown darker with each passing day. It's as though something haunts him.”

“You worry too much, brother. It's a good thing I am around to make sure you smile!” Kíli nudges his brother's shoulder with his own, earning a grin for his efforts.

...

The day of the trip arrives quickly and brings with it fair weather and good moods. Thorin is thoughtful throughout the hike to their camping site, but seems to be enjoying his sister-sons company. For his part, Fíli spends the trek keeping his brother safely on the path, as Kíli is prone to distraction and likely to wander into trouble at a moments notice. 

The sky begins to darken as they reach the camp site, and is darker still by the time they collect wood for a fire and lay out their bedrolls. As they feast on a stew of dried herbs and rabbit, the brothers sit shoulder-to-shoulder watching the shadows dance among the trees.

“Fíli. Kíli.” Thorin's voice cuts through the darkness. “This trip is not for folly, but to give me a chance to speak bluntly to you both, away from the ears of the city.”

This catches the attention of both brothers and they watch their uncle with rapt attention. Fíli ventures, “We are listening, Uncle...”

“There is so much to tell you, my hope is that you are of the age and wisdom to understand what I have to say.”

“We are, Uncle!” Kíli bursts, earning himself an elbow from his brother.

“That remains to be seen, but the time has come for you to know the story of our family.” Thorin takes a deep breath and levels a gaze at his sister-sons. “My father was Thráin, son of Thrór, and a direct descendant of Durin the Deathless. Durin was the first and most important of the seven Fathers of the Dwarves created by Mahal. We are Durin's Folk.” 

Fíli and Kíli both nod, having heard their genealogy many times before.

“You have been brought up on the stories of Erebor, though you have probably never taken them for more then youngling tales.” Fíli frowns, knowing this to be true. “When Erebor was lost to the dragon Smaug, our people spent twenty years despondent and without home. My grandfather Thrór, seeking a kingdom, walked alone into Moria and never walked out. He was slain by an orc lord named Azog.”

“My father, Thráin, waited nine years before he exacted his revenge at the battle of Azanulbizar.” Thorin pauses a moment, seemingly lost in his thoughts. “I remember the sky was dark, even though it was daytime, and our boots slipped on the frost. We defeated Azog and the orcs, but lost half our number in return. I gained the name Oakenshield, but lost my brother, Frerin.” Kíli shifts closer to his own brother, fisting the arm of his coat tightly.

“Your mother was not much older than you boys are now. I had to tell her Frerin was not returning.” Thorin closes his eyes and remains silent for a long moment. “She was very brave. It was by her will alone that my father held himself together as long as he did.” At this Thorin smiles slightly. “She demanded he act like the king he was and he led our people here, to the Blue Mountains. Not even a heartbroken king could say no to your mother. She brought us strength and joy in a time when there was little to be happy about, and we all sang the day she married your father.”

“Our father?” Fíli leans forward, “Are we to know of him at last?”

“Sadly, there is precious little to tell. Grár was a traveling merchant and not one of our kinfolk. Still, he had a loyal heart and a warriors spirit, and loved your mother very much. With all we had been though, none could deny her that small happiness. Their love burned bright and gave her solace in an unforgiving world.” Thorin looks at each boy in turn, “Unfortunately, Thráin had no such solace. Forty years after the death of Frerin, my father disappeared from the edge of Mirkwood while on a quest. We never saw him again.”

“Eighteen years later you were born, Fíli. And to your parents you were the light and the hope for the future.” Kíli scowls slightly at his brother, who can't help but grin.

“Five years later and Kíli came, but not before we lost Grár to an orc raid. He never had the chance to meet his youngest son.”

Fíli notices his brother's downcast face. “Why are you telling us this, Uncle Thorin? Why now?”

“Because these are the people you are forged from. This is your legacy.”

Fíli frowns. “What is there you are not saying? Surely there is something more.”

“One day we will reclaim Erebor, and when we do I will rule our people as king.” Thorin regards the boys for a moment. “You are my sister-sons, the children of Durin. You are my heirs.”

The night is silent save for the occasional crack of a log on the fire. In the darkness Kíli can feel his brother's heartbeat quicken. “Heirs? Surely you jest, Uncle. We are no leaders.”

“No, you are mere children. But you will learn.” Thorin's eyes rest on his eldest sister-son. “When I am gone, you will be king, Fíli. You must remember that and act accordingly. It is time for you both to start growing up.”

Thorin banks the fire and then settles into his bedroll. “I know I have given you boys a lot to think about. Rest tonight and we will speak on this more in the future.”

The brothers wait until Thorin's breaths deepen before tucking into their own bedrolls, scooting them as close to each others as they dare.

“I do not care what Uncle Thorin says, I have no desire to be king of anything!” Fíli whispers, a sharp edge to his voice.

“Do not worry, brother, you cannot be king without a kingdom- we are the heirs of naught. Plus, Uncle Thorin will be king as long as he lives and I suspect he will outlive even Durin the Deathless!” Kíli frowns when his joke brings no smile to his brother's face.

“Fee, no matter what happens I will be there to help you.” He reaches over and lightly tugs one of Fíli's braids. “It does not matter if you are king of Erebor, a smith in Ered Luin, or a drunkard in the land of Elves.” Their eyes meet and Kíli smiles slightly. “Whatever the future holds, we are in it together.”

In the darkness neither brother sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please let me know what you think! I know there was a lot of history in it, so I hope it wasn't boring or tedious...
> 
> Also, I think I have all my dates and ages right, but it you notice something is incorrect, tell me! I'm beta-less here. :)


	4. A Future Forged in Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli doesn't want to be the king his uncle is training him to be. Kíli is there to remind him of who he truly is.

Chapter Four: A Future Forged in Stone  
“There hammer on the anvil smote,” -Tolkien, Song of Durin  
\-----

 

Fíli loves morning time in the tiny room he shares with Kíli above their forge. He loves the way the silence is broken by his brother's soft snores, and the feel of the cool air outside his blanket cocoon. He loves waking Kíli up with a pillow to the face, and laughing at the puppy-dog eyes, and the obvious retaliation. He loves the quiet breakfasts, where they are both still coming out of their sleep, and even the slightly burned bread, for neither of them have mastered baking. Most of all, he loves having Kíli by his side.

Fíli counts himself lucky to have his own forge. Sixty years might be a lifetime for a man, but it is still considered young for a dwarf. He tells himself that they have earned the forge with their hard work and excellent craftsmanship, but that doesn't stop the nagging feeling that it might have been gifted to Thorin's heir.

After Thorin's declaration of his intent to re-take Erebor Fíli is pulled from his forge often, to be subjected to rigorous teachings in attempt to groom him for the throne. 

He takes to Thorin's lessons with a single-minded devotion, vowing to do his uncle proud. The lists of genealogy are simply enough to memorize, as are the maps and mining schematics. Some days he wonders if his head will soon be so full of facts and figures that there won't be room left for any thoughts of his own.

Weapons training is a welcome retreat and something he is surprisingly good at. He fights with a set of paired swords, a war hammer, throwing knives and axes, anything that can be used against an enemy. He ducks and turns and parries, until even Thorin has trouble keeping up with him. When Fíli leaves the town on hunting trips, he bristles with weaponry- blades tucked into his bracers, hidden inside his boots, strapped to his back. He looks every bit the warrior prince he never wants to be.

They spar almost every day, Thorin and Fíli running though their paces with swords and hammers, each beating bruises into the others hide. Kíli joins them, though seldom unsheathes his own sword, as he finds early on that he lacks the skill of his brother. Fíli is the one who excels at fighting with brute force and strength, seeming to relish the damage he inflicts. Instead of trailing along in his brother's shadow, Kíli steps out and casts one of his own- discovering, quite accidentally, an uncanny knack for archery. He spends hours putting arrow after arrow into targets, until he needs only the briefest moment to line up his shot and stick the bulls-eye.

“Are you sick of stationary targets yet, brother?” Fíli grins at his brother the moment Thorin leaves them, and hefts a weighted sack in one hand.

Kíli nods slightly and draws back his bow, kissing the arrow, then letting it fly the moment his brother tosses the bag. The arrow sails through the center of its target, pinning the sack to the wall of the neighboring butcher shop.

“Nice aim, little brother! To bad there will be hell to pay once your arrow is discovered by the butcher's wife. Again.” Fíli laughs as they both hurry to collect their weapons. “We best be getting back to the forge at any rate. Those pots aren't going to fix themselves.”

...

Rushing back to the forge, they shed their weapons along with their lineage. Here in the heat of the fires they can stop being Thorin's heirs for a few stolen moments. Here they are Fíli and Kíli- nothing more.

Fíli loves the feel of sweat between his shoulder blades and the pull of his muscles as he spikes his hammer down. He loves the craft of it all- everything from taking an old pot and making it new again, to creating cloak pins and hair clasps to sell to the townsfolk. With each fall of the hammer he imagines the life he and Kíli could forge here- a peaceful land, a steady job, a quiet home. Each stroke of the hammer calms him, centers him. 

And then he inhales.

In the heat of the forge Fíli images breathing Erebor. The smell of coal and beeswax and hot metal fills his nostrils and he pictures a hall filled with forges, where a hundred smiths work in tandem. He hears the ring of the anvils and feels the sparks burn his skin. In these moments he sees himself as a prince, a king.

He tastes salt and assumes it's sweat until he feels Kíli's hand on his arm. Turning to his brother, Fíli realizes that he is crying.

“You're doing it again, Fee.” Kíli's dark eyes are unusually serious.

“Doing what, exactly?” Fíli wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of black soot across his face.

“Thinking about Erebor. About Uncle. About things that may never come to be.”

“How can I not? Every day he trains me in the art of ruling. When he's done, I wonder if there will be anything left of myself.” Fíli is crying in earnest now.

“Our futures are not forged in stone.” Kíli hugs his brother close. “We cannot change our birthright, but we can choose how we live our lives right now! Here, in this moment, you are not a prince. You are not a king. All you are is my brother.”

Fíli shudders in his Kíli's embrace, sobs racking his body. “What am I to do? Tell me! Please! What am I supposed to do?”

“You remember who you are.”

“And who is that? I feel as though I no long know.”

“Then it is my job to remind you.” Kíli smiles softly. “You are Fíli. You are the stealer of sweets and the vanquisher of imaginary orcs. You are the rescuer of little brothers who get themselves stuck in trees. You are devoted to our mother and loyal to our uncle. You try much too hard to please everyone. You are my brother. And you are my best friend.”

Fíli looks at his brother with eyes full of wonder. “I feel as though I would forget myself if you were not here to remind me.”

“That is why I will never leave you, Fee.”

...

For the first time since childhood they choose to share a bed for the night, Fíli wrapped like a baby in his brother's arms. They are both damp with sweat and covered in soot, and Fíli knows he'll regret not bathing come morning. But for now Kíli's hands are in his hair, his voice whispering quiet promises, and Fíli can't bring himself to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on dwarf ages (since someone asked). As a general rule, dwarves live to be around 250 years old. Men (in Middle-Earth) have an average life span of 70 years. Age 30 is the tip point between childhood and adolescence. After that all dwarf ages (to an outsider) sort of blend together until they reach @240, where they turn white/wrinkled. There are, obviously, exceptions. That being said, there are several schools of thought on how they age early in life. If you follow the same dwarf-to-human-ratio you use after age 30, you would have two year old dwarves running around like adolescent humans. That's not practical. I am of the belief that they age slower before age 30, and then it levels out to the normal ratio before old age catches them.
> 
> That being said- for the sake of this story:  
> -First chapter: Fíli is 5/10. In human terms, Fíli is 3/5 and Kíli is 0/3.  
> -Second chapter: Fíli is 20. In human terms, Fíli is 10 and Kíli is 7.  
> -Third chapter: Fíli is 40. In human terms, Fíli is 16 and Kíli is 15  
> -This chapter: Fíli is 60. In human terms, Fíli is 17 and Kíli is 16  
> -The next chapter will put Fíli at 80, and then 82 for the remainder of the story. In human terms, Fíli is 23 and Kíli is 21.
> 
> These are all approximations. As you can see, dwarves have a more comparable age to men until they reach 30, where they suddenly slow down (men mature faster, because they have shorter lives). If you want to debate dwarf/human ages with me- please feel free. I totally geek out over this stuff. :)


	5. An Unwelcome Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin shows up with an "invitation" to a quest. Fíli and Kíli are not pleased.

Chapter Five: An Unwelcome Visitor  
“No words were laid on stream or stone” - Tolkien, Song of Durin  
\-----

 

Fíli and Kíli are happy with their lives in Ered Luin. They have a successful forge, which keeps them busy, bringing in steady business from dwarves and men alike. They have a small home above the forge- not much more than a tiny bathing chamber and a single room with two beds pushed against opposite walls. They often have supper with their mother, who is quick to express how proud she is of both her sons. 

The brothers live together, eat together, and work together. They spend their afternoons sparing to keep up their weapon skills, and their evenings drinking in the local pub. Fíli often catches himself thinking his life would be empty indeed without his brother's company. He is one year past his eightieth birthing day, and cannot remember a single of those days spent without Kíli at his side. 

The evening is chill as they stumble towards home, their footsteps clumsy on the cobblestone path. Fíli tastes the traces of ale dampening his beard and knows the morning will bring a mess of a headache, but can't bring himself to care. For his part, Kíli leans heavily on his brother's arm, laughing much to loudly at something neither brother can remember. It has been a good night, and they are anxious to fall into their beds and let sleep claim them.

Their forge is dark, but as they draw nearer, Fíli notices the door is ajar. “Kíli.” It takes only the one word and his brother is focused, dark eyes scanning the building while his hand reaches for the dagger on his belt. Fíli draws his own blade and they creep forward, pushing the door open and preparing to strike-

“Uncle Thorin?!” Kíli drops his dagger and moves to greet his uncle. “You made for Bree well over a year ago. We weren't expecting you...”

“Obviously.” Thorin frowns. “I had expected you both to keep up with your training while I was away, but apparently you have been too deep in your cups.”

Kíli blanches and can feel his brother stiffen beside him. “Our weapons work is better than ever, Uncle, and our forge has brought us prosperity. We are truly making a name for ourselves here.”

Thorin stands and regards his sister-sons with a cold gaze. “There are more important things in this world then a little forge in a nameless town. You have wasted long enough at these childish pursuits!”

Both boys are hurt at their uncle's remarks, but it is Kíli whose hurt turns to anger. “You cannot come here- into our **home** and insult us like this! You may be our Uncle and our elder, but that does not give you the right-”

“ **I am your king!** ” Thorin bellows. “And the time has come for you to recognize that. The time has come for us to claim what is rightfully ours!”

Fíli stands silent, knowing the pounding in his head is not a result of the ale.

“I met a wizard while in Bree,” Thorin states, “and he gave me this.” He sets a heavy key onto the table with a resounding thunk. “The key to Erebor.”

“Excuse me, Uncle, I am not sure I heard you right...” Kíli doesn't know when to hold his tongue on a good day, and the ale exacerbates the problem. “A wizard shows up and just happens to have a key to the very thing you want most in the world. Does that not sound at all suspicious to you?”

“ **Silence!** ” Thorin slams his fist on the table with such force the key is launched into the air and lands on the floor near Fíli's feet. “The wizard was given the key by my father, before he died... and a map as well. He has agreed to help us on this quest. Do not question things you do not understand.”

“I have forged together a party of dwarves who are loyal to me and to Erebor. They will be meeting us in a fortnight in a place called the Shire, where we will add a burglar to our ranks.” Thorin strides towards the door, where he stops to pick the key up off the floor.

“I expect you both to be present. And to behave in a manner fitting to my heirs.” He glowers at his sister-sons. “If you embarrass me, Mahal himself will not be able to save you. Do I make myself understood, Fíli?”

Fíli opens his mouth to respond and promptly vomits on his uncle's boots.

...

Later, after their uncle has stormed off and left them with news enough to sober themselves, the brothers trudge to their bedroom and ready themselves for sleep. 

Fíli lays down immediately, not bothering with the blankets, and faces his brother. “We have to go.” It's not a question.

Kíli nods shortly, sitting down on his own bed. “We do.”

“We could die out there.” Fíli's vision blurs and he closes his eyes. “You could die.”

“I could. But I won't.” Kíli shrugs.

“How can you know that?” Fíli's eyes are open again, staring straight at his brother.

“Because I promised we would always be together. I would never break a promise, Fee. Not to you.” He crosses the room and settles on the edge of Fíli's bed.

“We'll get by like we always do. You will try too hard to please everyone, until it is too much and you start fall apart.” Kíli smooths the hair back from his brother's face. “And I will be there to hold you together.”

Fíli laughs softly at this, though the laugh is genuine. “Why is it, little brother, that you spend so much time looking after me? I remember a time when I was the hero...”

“You will always be my hero, Fee. And I'm sure there will be plenty of times during our adventure where you will have to keep me out of trouble.”

“I do not doubt that in the least, brother!” Fíli grins. “Especially after the way you spoke to Uncle tonight. I worry you'll be in more danger from his wrath then from dragon fire.”

Kíli laughs, swatting his brother in the shoulder. “At least I am not the one who got sick on his boots!” Fíli shoves him off the bed with a laugh. 

Crawling into his own bed and downing the lights, Kíli speaks quietly into the darkness. “It doesn't matter where we are, so long as we are together. And I know we will make this a merry adventure.”

Fíli murmurs his accord and falls quickly to sleep. It is Kíli who stares into the darkness long after his brother's breathing steadies, hoping he is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -We've reached chapter 5- I figured it was time for douchey Thorin. :)   
> -Also, I changed cannon a bit and gave Thorin the key early, because it was more dramatic, and I don't plan on writing that part of the Bag End scene.  
> -Are you guys enjoying the way the characters are written? Taking on Tolkien is a daunting task!


	6. The Unexpected Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli head to the Shire to prepare for the quest to retake Erebor.

Chapter Six: The Unexpected Party  
“Unwearied then were Durin's folk;” -Tolkien, Song of Durin  
\----

Fíli finds trip from their home in the Ered Luin to the hobbit's hole in the Shire blissfully uneventful. He doesn't care much for the business of adventuring, and would rather be back at the forge he shares with his brother then out on the road. Kíli, on the other hand, is reveling in the journey. He relishes the cool mountain air, suppers cooked over an open fire and bedrolls spread under an endless sky. The only thing he doesn't care for is the soreness in his legs from riding all day atop his pony.

“We are dwarves, not elves. Riding does not suit us.” He pouts, standing in his stirrups to stretch his legs.

“They help us cover more ground, brother. The faster we are done with this errant quest, the happier I will be.”

Kíli shrugs. “Quicker or not, I still dislike these ponies. And I care not for the smell.”

Fíli laughs and pats his own mount. “They do not bother me much, though I'm used to your stench after a day in the forge!”

Looking momentarily horrified, Kíli quickly resorts to laughter. “I am glad your spirits are high today, Fee. It is good to hear your laugh.”

“Spring has forged us lovely weather and I am traveling with you, brother. Even the thought of this fool quest cannot dampen my mood.”

“Then let us hope then that the weather holds for our entire journey!” Kíli flashes a crooked grin. “I would enjoy nothing more then for this to become a walking holiday with my brother, our grumpy uncle, and ten of our distant relatives!”

“A Durin's folk reunion?” Fíli chuckles. “We are a dysfunctional bunch to say the least!”

“And what of this hobbit that Uncle's wizard insists we bring along? Mister Boggins.”

“Baggins. What a name!” Fíli laughs. “He sounds like a very strange creature.”

“I agree. I always thought hobbits to be a soft folk, but there must be something special about him, else Uncle would not have agreed to bring him.”

Fíli pauses, momentarily in thought. “I get the feeling that Uncle was not given much say in the matter.”

“You think the wizard gave him no choice?” Kíli laughs, obviously enjoying the thought. “Oh, if that's true I wish I could have been there to see it! Uncle Thorin taking orders! Ha!”

...

 

The trip continues in a similar manner, the brothers laughing and joking, each enjoying the others company. Too soon they reach the Shire and the hobbit hole with the green door and the cirth mark upon it.

Knocking at the door, the brothers are greeted by a flustered hobbit with a disgruntled frown. “What can I do for you, my dwarves?”

“Kíli at your service!”

“And Fíli!” He sweeps off his hood as they both offer the hobbit a bow.

Kíli cocks his head at the dumbfounded hobbit. “I hear voices inside, are the rest of the throng here then?”

“Throng? I don't like the sound of that!” The hobbit looks faint and quickly takes a seat in the corner.

Moving into the house, Fíli takes in the fine woodwork and homey atmosphere. It is too soft for his own tastes, but there is something comforting about the warmth that he finds appealing.

They join several older dwarves in the dining room, greeting them with respect. Soon after the wizard arrives, along with the remaining dwarves, save for Thorin.

“It seems Uncle is late.” Fíli whispers, pulling Kíli into the seat beside him.

“Yes, and we should take that as good fortune and have a bit of fun before he arrives!” Kíli grins, passing his brother a tankard of ale. 

The hobbit brings food to the table and they all dig in, emptying most of the pantry and dirtying all the dishes. They eat and talk noisily- of their families and work and the quest ahead. The hobbit squeaks out some manner of irritation at the mess and Fíli finds himself winking at his brother. In the spirit of merriment he picks up a dirty plate and tosses it to Kíli, who has moved towards the kitchen.

Catching the dish, Kíli grins happily and begins to make up a song: “Blunt the knives and bend the forks...”

“...Smash the bottles and burn the corks!” Fíli joins in, tossing another plate for his brother to wash. Soon the other dwarves join in, each adding another line to the song as they clean up the kitchen. The song grows louder as the lyrics get more and more destructive. Just as the poor hobbit appears to grow faint, they finish their tasks and join in on the final line “That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!”

Looking around at the cleaned kitchen, the flabbergasted hobbit, and the grinning dwarves, Fíli can't help but laugh. 

...

Even Thorin's arrival does nothing to squelch his happiness. They settle down to talk of business, but Fíli pays little attention. Instead he watches his brother's excitement, and it is obvious to him that Kíli genuinely wishes to go on this adventure. He knows full well that if he is to leave now, even in the face of his uncle's wrath, that Kíli will leave with him. His brother's loyalty to him knows no bounds and a tightness rises in Fíli's chest at the thought.

When the moment comes that the quest might be ended before it beings, Fíli surprises himself by slamming his fist on the table. “We might be few in number, but we are fighters... all of us!” The other dwarves rally at his cry and Thorin nods his approval, but Kíli shoots his brother a worried look. There is no space for questions in the crowded room, and their attention is soon turned to the plans at hand.

...

Much later, when the planning is done and the hobbit has found them all quiet corners to sleep, Kíli finally voices his thoughts. “Why, brother?”

“Because of you.” Fíli shrugs. “I may not wish to go on this quest, but you do and I support you. That is reason enough for me to go.”

Kíli's eyes darken slightly and he presses their foreheads together. “I do want a chance at adventure, but not at the cost of your happiness.”

“I will be happy as long as you are with me.”

“I will always be with you, Fee.” Kíli flicks one of his brother's braids playfully. “It will take more then a dragon, or even Uncle to keep me away.”

They make their beds on the floor of a spare room and fall into a sprawling, restful sleep. Neither brother knows what the future holds, but now that a decision has been made they face it, like all things, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cannon dictates that Thorin and Gandalf have their meeting, then the wizard meets with some of the dwarves in Thorin's Hall. After that they head out to the Shire to acquire Bilbo. I'm choosing to basically ignore the meeting, mostly because I can't find my copy of “Unfinished Tales” and don't want to muck up the details. If it seems like the boys and Thorin had more of a discussion then we saw in the last chapter, we'll just assume Thorin came back the next morning and gave them some boring details. This bit of my story is a mesh of the book, “Unfinished Tales”, and the film.
> 
> This moment wasn't one I had actually planned on writing (thus I gave Thorin the key in the last chapter), but the last few bits have been rather angsty, and the next chapter is pretty heavy... So I felt the need to lighten the mood. Plus, this gave me the opportunity to explain why movie!Fíli defends a quest he doesn't want to go on.
> 
> As a side note- I have no idea why they changed the order of the lines in “Blunt the Knives” for the film. I suppose it's for the rhymes, but it drives me crazy.


	7. Where You Cannot Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli face death and separation for the first time on their journey.

Chapter Seven: Where You Cannot Follow  
“And metal wrought like fishes' mail,” -Tolkien, Song of Durin  
\------------------

 

Rain pours through the canopy of trees, soaking the company and muddying the roads. Fíli cringes as a stray bead of water weaves its way into the hood of his cloak and trickles down the back of his neck. He is cold, wet, and probably smells like damp pony. Mostly though, Fíli is irritated. He wishes for his soft bed, and the heat of the forge, and brightness of his brother's smile. His mood is as foul as the weather.

He looks up the row of ponies and picks out the blue hood of Kíli's cloak. His brother is hunched low over his pony's neck, bow wrapped in oil cloth and tucked in front of him. Fíli thinks back several days and remembers his brother's hope for a fair-weather journey. 

“Blast it, Kíli, you cursed us!” he mutters, resisting the urge to throw something at his brother's back.

The clouds are so heavy they block out the sun, and twilight seems to stretch on for hours and hours. Finally, they crest a hill to find a copse of trees gathered near the banks of a swollen river and Thorin calls a stop to the travel. The dwarves dismount with aching joints, soggy clothing, and no small measure of relief. Kíli is next to him, though he can't see more then the unruly tangle of dark hair beneath his brother's hood.

“It's cold.” Kíli's voice is quiet, hesitant.

“You are the one who wished for this _adventure_ , brother.” Fíli makes no attempt to hide his annoyance.

He feels more than sees Kíli's pout. “Yes, well, I did not expect so much rain. Or traveling.”

“And what did you expect then? Sunshine and soft beds and copious amounts of food? Skirmishes with orcs to take your mind off the boredom? To _fly_ to the very doors of Erebor on enchanted wings?” He scoffs, turning to face his brother. “This is what adventure is, Kíli! _This_ is what you wanted!”

Kíli looks up with eyes that are wide and hurt. “I did not think...”

“No, you didn't. You never think things though. You are impulsive! Childish!” He stabs a finger at his brother to mark each point.

“You could have said no.” The wetness on Kíli's cheeks is not from the rain. “You could have said no...” The second time is spoken with such defeat that Fíli feels his anger lessen.

“I could never say no to you, brother.” They stand miserably in the gathering gloom, neither brother quite meeting the other's eyes.

Without warning, a large clap of thunder sounds, causing one of the baggage ponies to bolt. It rushes past them in a blind panic, lead rope dragging in the muck. Kíli races forward and catches the reigns just as the pony charges down the bank, dragging him into the frigid river.

“I have her!” Kíli is a dark blur against the moving water, clinging to the pony as he tries to lead it back to land. The pony rears, it's hoofs tangling in Kíli's cloak, and Fíli races to the edge of the river just in time to see his brother disappear beneath the surface of the water. 

“Kíli?” He half expects his brother to re-appear beside the pony with his trademark grin. “ **Kíli!** ”

Fíli is in the river without quite knowing how he got there, screaming for his brother. He slips on the uneven ground and goes under, the cold water shocking his system and slowing his movements. Trashing wildly as he tries to regain balance, Fíli's foot connects with something solid. “ **Kíli!** ” Forging into the darkness he grips his brother's coat, dragging him to the surface. Kíli is frightfully cold and not moving. 

Somehow Fíli manages to get them both to the shore, dragging his brother out of the river and falling at his side. “Kíli! Brother! Please!” His voice breaks with grief as he pleads with his brother. “You cannot leave me! You promised!”

Thorin is suddenly at his side, eyes wide with fear. “We have to get the water from his lungs!” He rolls Kíli to his side, frantically beating his fists into the chest of his sister-son.

For one long moment it seems like they are too late. Fíli's feels a tightness in his chest and fights the dread by screaming until he is hoarse. “ **Kíli!** ” There is no life without his brother. “ **Kíli!** ” There is no purpose. “ **Kíli!** ” There is nothing good left in the world. “ **Kíli!** ” And then his brother is coughing and choking and Fíli gathers him up in a crushing hug. “You idiot! Don't ever do that to me again!”

“I'm sorry, Fee.” Kíli's voice cracks and tears spill from his eyes.

Fíli holds his brother close, whispering soothing promises they both know he may not be able to keep. “I am here, brother. I will never leave you.”

…

The rest of the company manages to corral the stray pony, though the bags of food it was carrying are long gone. They tend to the ponies as best they can and leave them tethered under a stretch of trees, making their own camp under a similar shelter. There is no dry kindling for a fire, and they eat a meal of cold travel cakes in silence.

Fíli and his brother do not eat. They dry themselves as best they can, then curl together under the blankets their uncle brings them. Kíli clings to his brother as though he is still drowning in the river, carding his fingers into Fíli's hair and pulling him close.

“I thought I had lost you.” Fíli's voice is low and broken.

“Fee.” Kíli mewls softly, burrowing into his brother's side. “I will never go where you cannot follow.”

They cling to each other long into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think this is my favorite chapter so far! It's the first moment the boys realize they might actually die- or worse- loose each other! What did you darlings think of the chapter?


	8. Catch and Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company is captured by the elves. Fíli and Kíli are separated. They escape, then snuggle. Hurray!

Chapter Eight: Catch and Release  
“Undimmed by cloud or shade of night” -Tolkien, Song of Durin

...

 

After the goblins and spiders and being lost in the woods and weak with starvation, it's almost a relief when the elves capture them. Fíli knows he should put up a fight as the elves bind his hands and cover his eyes, but he can feel Kíli's warmth beside him, and can't summon the energy to do more then shuffle along with the others. 

Once inside the Elvenking's gate their shackles are removed and they find themselves in a great stone hall with many winding passages leading off from it. Here the elves question them, but find the dwarves too weary and stubborn to answer.

It isn't until the Elvenking orders his guards to put the dwarves in separate cells that fear blossoms in Fíli's chest. He feels his brother grip his arm tightly. “We go together.”

The Elvenking raises a fine brow and shakes his head. “No. I think not.”

Guards pull the brothers apart, spurring Fíli to struggle until Kíli meets his eyes with purpose and makes a subtle gesture with his left hand- an iglishmek sign. _Burglar_. 

Glancing around, Fíli finds the hobbit not among the prisoners, though he had been there when the elves had found them. He glances at Kíli and twitches his first and second fingers minutely. _Hope_.

Kíli's response is instant. _Together soon_.

The elves don't seem to notice the silent communication, so Fíli hazards one more sign. _Be safe_.

The dwarves are herded down different hallways and Fíli sees the panic in his brother's eyes as they are pulled in opposite directions. There is nothing he can do and he soon finds himself locked in a clean, sparse cell with nothing more then a bedroll and a chamberpot. A simple meal is delivered by a guard and Fíli devours it gratefully, falling into a fitful sleep the moment his belly is full.

…

 

The two weeks Fíli spends in the Elvenking's dungeon weigh more on his spirit then the rest of the journey combined. He has shared every day with Kíli, and the cell is dark and lonely without his brother's bright smile and laughter to warm it. Without Kíli at his side, the elder dwarf finds his thoughts pulled in a many different directions. 

Fíli thinks of Thorin- how desperately he wants to do his uncle proud.  
He thinks of Erebor- the kingdom he may one day rule if their quest is successful.  
He thinks of the Blue Mountains- the only home he's ever known and the one he truly wants.  
He thinks of his mother- wonders how she is getting along, and misses her dreadfully.  
He thinks of Kíli- somewhere in the Elvenking's halls, so close and yet so far away.

There are two things that keep Fíli's thoughts from overtaking him. The first is the knowledge that, though they are prisoners, the elves are taking good care of them. This means Kíli and the others are safe and being well-fed. 

The second is their burglar, who somehow evaded capture and has taken to ferrying messages between members of the company, while trying to find an escape route. Fíli cannot help but feel overwhelmingly grateful the first time the tiny voice whispers through the keyhole that his brother is safe. They do not know who else might be listening, so they take to sending each other messages in thinly veiled codes.

“They are feeding me well, though the bread is not burnt enough for my taste.” Is the first message from Kíli. _I am well, but homesick_.

“Remember my birthing day, when you got stuck in the tree?” Fíli replies. _I am here for you. Have faith_.

“Have you heard any imaginary orcs?” _Are Uncle's messages finding their way to you_?

“Stay away from the river, brother.” _Do not do anything rash, Kíli_.

“I love you, Fee. Always.” There is no secret in this last message, only a lifetime of affection from the brother he misses desperately.

Fíli wastes no time in sending a response with the burglar. “Always.”

...

When the hobbit finally formulates a plan and releases the dwarves from their cells, Fíli is beside himself with excitement. When Kíli's cell is finally opened, he finds his arms full of brother- the younger dwarf giving him a clinging hug before they move off to free the others. Reunited, the stay in the Elvenking's hall suddenly looses it's threat and they grin happily at each other as they make their way towards the cellars. 

Their burglar's plan is to float out of the Elvenking's hall in empty barrels, something that the other dwarves find completely objectionable. Fíli is unsure at first, but his brother catches his eye with a wicked grin and nods slightly at their uncle. The thought of the majestic Thorin Oakenshield riding down the river in a barrel is too much for the brothers and they dissolve in fits of silent laughter.

It doesn't take long to float barrels in the water and to situate all the dwarves into them. Fíli finds himself in an apple barrel stuffed with straw to keep him from being bounced around too much. Kíli is next to him in the water as they use ropes to tether the barrels together in a loose chain. The hobbit lightly settles lids atop each of the barrels and pushes them off- the dwarves bobbing their way down the tunnels and out of the Elvenking's hall.

It is hours before they are out of site of the elves and the burglar climbs between the barrels, removing the lids so that the dwarves can see. Fíli takes a deep breath of fresh air and shakes the water from his hair. Looking over, he sees that Kíli's barrel is less water-tight then his own, the younger dwarf's clothes are wet and his dark hair clings to his face.

“Oy! Kíli! You look like a drowned rat!”

Fíli laughs at his brother's glare, only to find himself choking on the sudden spray of water which hits him full in the face. “Did you just _splash_ me!?”

Kíli gives him a way-to-innocent look, which leads to an all-out water battle between the brothers and an irritated glare from a soggy Thorin.

...

They float for what seems like an eternity, until hungry and water-logged, they come to shore outside of Lake-Town. Climbing out of the barrels and finding their legs takes some doing, but soon the whole company is accounted for and they move down river to find a suitable campsite. A small cave- no more then a hole in the hillside- offers respite from the elements, though it is extremely close quarters. They have no food or bedrolls, and do not dare light a fire less it draws unwanted attention to themselves.

Fíli sits with his brother against the back wall of the cave. Despite their damp clothes and empty bellies, both are in good spirits.

“I told you this would be a merry adventure, Fee.” Kíli nudges his shoulder.

“That you did. And parts of it have been if you don't count the rain, or the goblins, or almost drowning, or the spiders, or...” Fíli frowns. 

“Or the elves separating us?” Kíli supplies.

“Or that.” Fíli puts an arm around his brother's shoulders, pulling him closer. “We are not meant to be apart is all. It doesn't seem natural.”

Kíli agrees softly. “I know what you mean.” Both brothers are silent for a long while, each tempting sleep and their own thoughts. 

“We are together now. That's the important part.” Kíli yawns sleepily and snuggles into his brother's side. “Also, your hair smells like apples.”

Fíli smiles gently as sleep finds them and in their exhaustion neither brother dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In the book the entire barrel ride takes place with the lids tightly sealed. That's boring. I imagine the film will do some of that scene with the lids off for the same reason. Plus, the thought of a water-logged Thorin is _hilarious_.
> 
> Also, I wanted a slightly happier chapter, because we're two scenes and a epilogue from the end of this story and things are going to get darker.


	9. The Princes of Erebor

Forge

Chapter Nine: The Princes of Erebor  
“Beneath the mountains music woke:” -Tolkien, 'Song of Durin'

…

 

At long last Erebor is upon them, the hidden door found, and (after too long on the doorstep) opened. The great dragon Smaug is alive, and then angry, and then dead- though not by their hands. Suddenly the company find themselves truly entering their home for the first time in almost two hundred years. For Fíli and Kíli, it is the initial time they've seen the ancestral kingdom, though they have grown up on its stories.

“Erebor.” Fíli breathes. 

“We made it.” Kíli's words break into giddy laughter.

“That we did, brother.” Fíli grins. “There were so many moments I thought we would not survive... and there was the dragon... but here we are!”

“We're alive, Fee!” Kíli pulls his brother close. “We're alive and in Erebor!”

They stand like that for a long time, while torchlight bounces off the carved stone hallways leading deeper into the mountain.

It is Thorin's voice which separates them, as he clasps a hand on each of their shoulders. “My boys! My heirs!” His smile is wide and brighter then either of his sister-sons have ever seen. “Welcome home!”

His excitement is palpable, and both of the brothers find themselves warming to it.

“It is just like your stories, Uncle.” Fíli says, peering down the darkened hall.

“May we look around?” Kíli is already grabbing for a torch, barely waiting for his uncle's answer.

“Go on! Off with you!” Thorin laughs. “Explore your kingdom!” He watches fondly as his sister-sons race off down the hall.

...

There are chambers filled with forges, ceilings so tall they cannot be seen and dark passages in the ground which must lead to the mines below.   
There are larders, long-since emptied, which lead into massive feast halls, the burnt husks of tables still present.   
There are personal chambers, barely touched by dragon-fire, but much too sad to delve into.  
There are rooms upon rooms of treasure, gold piled high to the rafters, and riddled with weapons, armor, gems, and too many trinkets to name.

“Mahal help us.” Fíli whispers, watching the gold glitter in the torchlight.

Kíli's eyes are wide. “Uncle was not jesting when he spoke of the treasures of Erebor.”

“No, brother, he was not.”

Kíli checks to make sure they are alone, then grins mischievously at his brother. “I know Thorin wishes us to act regal and adult, but there is something I cannot help but do...”

Fíli raises a brow but before he can voice his question, Kíli is diving head-first at a pile of treasure, rolling amongst the gold and sending coins flying. 

Kíli's laughter is as bright as sunlight and washes the weariness of the journey from Fíli's soul. Setting down his torch, he rushes to join his brother in play. Together they climb amongst the treasure, tossing coins at each other and exclaiming over various finds. They discover enchanted harps and the chamber fills with music and laughter as they dance about, their bodies adorned with ridiculous amounts of jewelry. When they tire of their diversions, the brothers climb atop shields and race down mountains of gold, much like younglings on a snow-hill. 

For a few blissful moments, they forget themselves and are children again.

Eventually their eagerness fades and they amble, shoulder-to-shoulder, amongst the treasure. Fíli grins and elbows his brother, who reaches over and tugs at his braids. “You look happy, Fee.”

“We're alive. We're together. We won.” He shrugs. “I could not have asked for more.”

Fíli kicks aimlessly at a pile of coins, unearthing a jeweled circlet. Both brothers stare at it, frozen.

It is Kíli who speaks first, breaking the silence. “What happens now?”

“I suppose Uncle Thorin becomes king and rebuilds Erebor to its former glory.”

“I meant what happens to us.” 

Fíli looks at his brother for a long moment before responding. “We stay here and become dwarven princes. We marry respectable women and produce many heirs. Eventually I take the throne.”

“Is that what you want?” Kíli asks gently.

“No.” His answer is no more than a whisper.

They walk in silence, choosing their course without active thought. An absent right-turn leads them into a massive chamber, furnished only with the burnt remains of an intricately carved stone throne.

“We cannot get away from it, can we?” Fíli sighs dejectedly, and walks over to the throne, kicking at the rubble.

Kíli frowns and grabs his brother's arm. “We could leave.”

“What?” Fíli's head snaps up.

“I said, we could leave. Right now. We could be back to Laketown before they even notice we're gone.”

Fíli blinks, as if the thought has never occurred to him. “And where would we go?”

“Back home.” Kíli shrugs. “Or anywhere we wanted to really.”

“What about Erebor? We are meant to rule...”

“The house of Durin can rot for all I care, Fee!” Kíli's voice takes on a desperate edge. “It's not worth your being unhappy!”

“Uncle Thorin would find us and force us back. Or else we'd be disowned.” Fíli frowns. “We might even be labeled as blood traitors.”

Kíli's eyes are dark and he leans heavily against his brother's side. “So what do we do?”

“What do you want to do, brother? If the choice was entirely yours, what would you have us do?”

Kíli thinks on this for a long while. “When Thorin named you his heir, all those years ago, I swore I would do whatever I could to help you. I never thought too far beyond that promise.” He regards his brother solemnly. “If you were to be king then I would be your adviser. If you chose to run, I would share the burden.”

“But what do _you_ want. What is in your heart?”

“I wanted adventure and I have gotten more of that then I bargained for.” Kíli smiles bitterly. “What I want is for us to be able to sleep without worry. To spend an entire day in the woods hunting for sport. To have you chide me because my hair is still unbraided. To see our mother again.”

“Oh, Kíli...” Fíli pulls his brother close, pressing their foreheads together. “The worst thing in the world is to see you sad. It's as if the sun itself has gone away.”

“I don't want to have to share you with anyone else- much less a whole kingdom. You are supposed to be my brother, not a king.” Kíli sniffles softly, burying his face in his brother's shoulder. “I hate this, Fee.”

“As do I.” Fíli puts a hand to his brother's chin, raising it until their eyes meet. “But know that you will always be my brother. And you will always come first. Kingdom be damned.”

“And you will always be mine. No matter what happens I will be at your side.”

“You are worth more to me then any kingdom, or amount of gold, or the Arkenstone itself.” Fíli's eyes are bright. “As long as you are with me, I have everything I could ever need.”

Kíli nods, some of the weight leaving his shoulders.

“Plus, Uncle Thorin will live to rule a good long while. I am sure life here will be little different from the training we received back home.” This earns Fíli a soft laugh from his brother and the dark mood is broken.

…

 

Long into the night the dwarves share stories and talk of their glory. One by one they wander off to their bedrolls until only Fíli and Kíli remain. Torchlight bounces off the hewn stone walls, the scent of dragon stench clings to the air, and the only sound is the deep breaths of their companions. Eventually exhaustion overtakes them and deep within the mountain, the princes of Erebor find sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had a really tough time with this chapter. I think it might have been because we all know what comes next. This is the last moment of happiness the boys get before Bo5A. I might go sob in a corner now... anyone want to join me?
> 
> Side note: We've got one chapter and the epilogue left. It's been suggested that I do a little drabble spin-off series of missing moments, or scenes that didn't make it into this fic. Do you guys have any interest in that? If you've got a drabble suggestion, leave me a comment. It could be from the book, the movie, or even a prompt based on the boys growing up... <3


	10. Darkness Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli fight in the Battle of Five Armies. And we all know what that means.

Chapter Ten: Darkness Falls  
“The darkness dwells in Durin's halls;” -Tolkien, 'Song of Durin'

…

Thorin's lust for treasure may well have left them in a never-ending siege were it not for the goblin forces which turned would-be enemies into allies. The elves and men rush headlong into the battle, as do the Ironfoot dwarves, but Thorin bides his time and bids his companions to wait. Fíli and Kíli peer over the high walls of Erebor at the assembling darkness below them and know it is only a matter of time before they join the fray.

“This is really going to happen, isn't it?” Kíli looks up from where he's stocking his quiver.

“You know it is, brother.” Fíli strikes a whetstone across the blade of one of his swords. “So much danger getting here and the real battle comes only once we've won.”

“I was foolish, you know.” Kíli checks the tautness of his bow string. “When this all began. I thought we were invincible.”

“We both did.” Fíli moves on to sharpening the second blade. “We were children who knew nothing of the world.”

“I wish we still were.” Kíli tucks his dagger into its sheath.

“As do I.” Fíli checks the throwing axes in his boots.

“You'll stay by me, won't you?” Kíli's sword is strapped to his side.

“At your side, as always.” Fíli slides the daggers into his bracers. “Until the very end.”

...

They've seen their fair share of skirmishes, even a battle or two, but everything pales in comparison to this- this is war. And Fíli is afraid. He looks over at his brother, as they ready by the gates, and knows Kíli feels the same fear. They are princes of Erebor and so they do their best to hide it.

Thorin is walking amongst the ranks of their small company, checking in with each dwarf in turn. When he reaches his sister-sons he stops, eyes heavy with worry, and pulls them both into his arms. “Do not do anything reckless. No matter what happens to me, keep each other safe. Erebor will need its heirs.” The words are barely more than a whisper and then he is gone, moving on to the next of the companions.

Too soon the gates are raised and they rush into the valley, weapons glinting in the crisp autumn sun. Fíli keeps his brother beside him as they move to flank the goblins. They fight in perfect tandem, a lifetime of training and affection leading them to know the others moves without looking. Kíli looses arrow after arrow, easily picking off goblins, while Fíli lays in to any that make it past the barrage.

The fighting goes on for hours, and it isn't long until both brothers are wet with sweat and gore. Kíli quickly runs out of arrows and is forced to draw his sword, while Fíli limps heavily due to a deep cut in his thigh. No matter how many goblins they slay, two more move in to take their place. It isn't until the eagles join in the fight that Fíli dares hope they might live to see victory.

Indeed, the eagles help their cause, grabbing goblins and wargs and tossing them into the depths of the river. The elves, men, and other dwarves rally at the site and fight with a renewed vigor. Fíli occasionally catches sight of their other companions, dirty and bleeding, but still alive and fighting. 

He sees Thorin in the distance, axes flashing, as he battles his way through goblin bodyguards.  
He sees Thorin pierced by goblin spears.  
He sees Thorin fall.

Fíli moves without thinking, racing across the battlefield toward his fallen uncle. He feels Kíli at his side as they take up ranks around Thorin's prone body. “ **Thorin!** ” Fíli is not sure if it's his voice yelling, or his brother's, but he takes heart in the rise and fall of his uncle's chest. He fights like a berserker, each slash of his swords making one less enemy who can hurt his friends, his uncle, his brother. He fights because he has everything to loose.

Out of nowhere aid comes and bears Thorin away, leaving the brothers alone in the mass of goblins.

“The gates of Erebor are close!” Kíli yells over the din of the battle. “We need to move!”

Fíli sees the arrow the moment before it embeds itself into his brother's chest. “ **KILI!** ” The world stops moving, as he pulls the younger dwarf into his arms. “Kili! Brother, please!”

Kíli's dark eyes are wide with terror. “Fee?”

“I am here, brother.” He presses a hand to the wound, trying to stop the blood flow.

“Hurts, Fee.” Kíli's voice rasps, flecks of red dotting his lips.

“I know it does.” Fíli sobs, pressing his forehead to his brother's. “But you've got to hold on. You promised never to leave me!”

Kíli makes a pained whimper, his fingers reaching up to tangle in Fíli's hair.

“ **Kili!** Stay with me!” He clutches his brother to him. “You promised!”

“Love you, Fee.” Kíli's words are barely more then a whisper. “Always.”

“Always.” Fíli breathes. Then his brother is gone.

...

There is no life without Kíli. No sunshine. No warmth. No laughter. There is no home without the brother whose soul is forged with his.

In the distance Fíli can hear a voice yelling for him to hurry, that the gates of Erebor are close and that he can still make it, but he can't bring himself to run. 

His body continues to fight of its own accord, parrying a stroke, then taking the goblin down. He clasps Kíli's body to him and throws his last dagger at a charging warg, hitting it clean between the eyes.

When the blow finally comes, he welcomes it, the sharp burn of a blade buried deep in his side. Stroking his brother's hair like a silent benediction, the last heir of Durin falls.

 

 

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I might have died a little writing this. They've been my boys for over 11,000 words and I had to kill them. I only hope I did them justice.
> 
> I've written an epilogue to this, which will be up in the next couple days. 
> 
> There's been some good interest in a drabble spin-off series of missing moments, or scenes that didn't make it into this fic. If you've got a drabble suggestion, leave me a comment. It could be from the book, the movie, or even a prompt based on the boys growing up... <3


	11. As They Lived (epilogue)

Chapter Eleven: As They Lived (Epilogue)  
“And at the gates the trumpets rang.” -Tolkien, 'Song of Durin'

…

 

**In the Halls of Mandos, far in the north west of Valinor, there is a chamber like none other.**

Stretched out against a marble bench is a near-beardless dwarf with dark eyes. He looks around impatiently, as though he is waiting for someone.

**Mahal, also called Aulë the Maker, has carved from the very stones of existence, the last great resting place of the dwarves.**

The young dwarf looks up with a mischievous smile, his eyes focusing on a new arrival, a boy not much older than himself.

**Here, the souls of the departed remain, waiting until they are called upon for the Last Battle after the end of all.**

The newcomer is caught up in a crushing embrace.

“Kíli.” The single word carries a lifetime of weight and emotion. “Kíli!”

“Hello, Fee. I was waiting for you.” Kíli smiles brightly.

“I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.” Fíli clutches his brother's arm like a lifeline.

“Not as long as I had hoped.” There is grief behind those words.

“I couldn't stay. Not without you.” Fíli takes a deep breath. “I saw you fall. I held you while you died.”

“I know. I tried to stay! I did not want to leave you!” Kíli's eyes are pleading.

“It's alright, brother.” Fíli hugs him again. “We are here now. Together.”

Kíli reaches up and tugs at his brother's braids. “Thorin will be here soon. He was given enough time to make peace with everything. Though, I am not sure he will ever forgive us for beating him here.”

“We have forever. He will forgive us at length.” Fíli shrugs. “And himself.” He smiles, pressing his forehead against his brother's.

“We have forever.” Kíli repeats, returning the smile. “Always.”

…

The dwarves of Erebor bury their king and his heirs deep beneath the mountain, just as the first snow settles on the land above. 

They do not relish their victory, as the grief of their casualties is too high to count. 

Of Thorin Oakenshied, King Under the Mountain, there is much to say. 

They speak of his bravery.  
Of his honor.  
Of his pride.  
And of his greed.

Of Fíli and Kíli, the young heirs of Durin, they have only one thing to say:

They died, as they lived. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. Thank you all so much for staying with me until the very end!  
> Special thanks to everyone who has left me reviews/favorites/kudos over the past ten chapters.  
> Extra-special thanks goes to ballykissangel for the idea of adding this epilogue.
> 
> I really hope that you'll leave me some feedback so I know what you thought of the story. It helps me know that I'm doing something right, and lights a fire under my ass to update quickly.
> 
> I've decided to do a little drabble spin-off series of missing moments, or scenes that didn't make it into this fic. If you've got a drabble suggestion, leave me a comment. It could be from the book, the movie, or even a prompt based on the boys growing up...The first post is up and you can find it here: ['Tales from the Forge'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/678584)
> 
>  
> 
> **Again, thank you all from the bottom of my heart. You're all amazing! <3 **

**Author's Note:**

> This series started as two stand-alone stories, which have now been combined into this series.
> 
> Reviews feed the muse! Please let me know what you think. <3


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